


Should the Sun Ever Fall

by perfectiousperformer



Category: The Trials of Apollo - Rick Riordan
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flashbacks, Gen, How Do I Tag, Non-Graphic Smut, Past Abuse, Past Character Death, Past Relationship(s), Self Confidence Issues, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Suicidal Thoughts, Zeus is a DICK, also sun and moon siblings for life, thats no surprise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:00:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27057592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perfectiousperformer/pseuds/perfectiousperformer
Summary: in his moments of indecision is when apollo falls.
Relationships: Apollo & Artemis (Percy Jackson), Apollo & Hestia (Percy Jackson), Apollo & Kayla Knowles & Austin Lake & Will Solace, Apollo & Meg McCaffrey, Apollo & Will Solace, Apollo & Zeus (Percy Jackson)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 108





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hihihi HI okay I don't know how to tag lol but this is my first fic on ao3 and i'm glad my ao3 virginity is taken by trials of apollo so here we go whEEEEEEEEEEEEE
> 
> also it's technically post Tower of Nero (that book shredded my soul into pieces) but Meg is gonna stay in camp (:
> 
> enjoy !
> 
> tw: suicidal thoughts and self harm

Apollo stared blankly at the surface of the lake. The moon was high in the sky, it's silvery light illuminating the flat surface of the water. A single blade of grass was held in his hands, the god seemingly enraptured by it. He picked a few more blades, weaving them together to form something more sturdy. Apollo continued his work, picking more blades of grass as he needed, weaving and tying them together with a delicate touch. He placed his creation on the surface of the lake, watching as the small ship bobbed up and down. Ripples ran through the otherwise calm lake, spreading over the surface of the water. He watched as currents pulled it away, and soon it was out of his sight. 

The sun god sighed, leaning back and laying down on the grass. Despite the fact that he was on the ground and nowhere near the edge of the water, Apollo felt like he was drowning. Staring at the moon through layers of fog, the sounds of crickets chirping reaching him through water. Muffled and dissonant. His eyes no longer shone gold. They were a dull bronze, moonlight reflecting off of his irises. 

His return to Olympus had been less than glorious. Yet somehow, Zeus had allowed him to remain in camp. His eyes were unfocused, blank and devoid of emotion. He hadn’t spoken to any of his relatives, not even his beloved sister. He was growing restless. Apollo sat up again, scratching at his arms nervously. 

A hiss and a drop of ichor. A single bead of the golden liquid gathered where he had accidentally pierced himself. It shimmered. It was beautiful but so, so wrong. He had grown used to crimson red and this all felt so wrong. Disgust gathered in his chest, fear making its presence known. His heart thumped wildly, the pressure building behind the concrete damn he had built. Water lapped at the surface, cracks spreading through the concrete. 

Apollo summoned a small blade into his hand, the celestial bronze hissing as it materialized. His breathing was ragged as he pressed the tip into his arm. The waters began to recede. The dam stopped shaking, the cracks stopped spreading. Another cut, another drop in the waters. And another, and another, and another. 

The golden ichor dripped down the length of his wounds, but the scars were already gone. Skin knitted itself together, leaving not even a mar in place of the cuts that had been present only moments ago. Apollo suddenly doubled over in tears, the salty liquid tracing down his cheeks. The dagger disappeared, no evidence of his earlier condition. 

All at once the waters threatened to overflow, the foundations of his dam shaking. He could only watch as his damn crumbled, praying to anyone that it would hold. That it wouldn’t crumble to dust, that the water wouldn’t wash him away.

His tears dried, but still he shook as dry sobs ripped through him. He didn’t react as a gentle hand settled on his shoulder. He knew who it was.

“Nephew, what troubles you?” Hestia’s kind voice reached his ears, the hearth goddess sitting next to him. He didn’t have to look at her to picture her smiling kindly at him, the pity in her eyes burned through him. 

He could only manage a sniffle and another hoarse sob. He must look pathetic, a sobbing god who looked twelve, sobbing into his arms. Apollo’s curly golden hair obscured most of his vision, but he could still feel as Hestia wrapped her arms around him. The silence was comforting, in a way. 

His tears dried and the dam stabilized. The two watched the moon together, Apollo drifting off in the arms of his aunt, knowing that at least at the moment his foundations would hold.


	2. Bittersweet Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> memories of the past are enough to bring him to tears, sights and sounds that cannot be replicated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gonna be honest, i did NOT expect all the support on the last chapter and i was surprised when i checked back in. hopefully you enjoy this chapter as well <3

Apollo stared forlornly at his food, poking the eggs with his fork. He also had a feeling that most of the campers were staring at him. Other than his sister, none of the other Olympians ever took on the form of anything under sixteen. His golden eyes drifted lifelessly over the table, staring at the countless scratches and holes that had been gouged in the table. 

The camp had recently changed from stone picnic tables to wooden ones. A lot of the campers claimed it was more comfortable, though Apollo just thought they were having too much fun carving things into the surface of the tables. He had woken up two hours before the sun would rise, and as the sun god, he always knew what time it was. That left him ample time to collect himself. Changing from green grass-stained clothing to neater ones. A simple white t-shirt that hung loosely off his frame and some jeans. How stylish.

Apollo stifled a yawn brushing strands of golden hair out of his face. He never thought about it, but why was his hair always so long? He did like it, but after six months with short hair, he was unused to having long and silky locks in place of short and unruly ones. Still, he was unwilling to change it to something else. He had left his hair loose, letting it spread over his shoulders. He simply could not be bothered with tying it up at the moment, since there was no reason to. 

"Not hungry?" Will asked, his voice so loud in comparison to his thoughts that Apollo accidentally set himself on fire. Instant freak out. Campers let out alarmed cries and scrambled to get away from him. The only campers who hadn't moved were his own children. And Nico, who always sat next to will. Apollo coughed awkwardly before putting himself out. Golden flames fizzled and sparked before dying down. No damage had been done since the flames had carried no heat, but it did scare a lot of the other campers. 

"I'll ah- I'll just... go," Apollo muttered, dissolving himself into an orb of golden light before zipping away. He flitted in between trees and branches, hovering over Zeus’ Fist. He reformed on top, sitting down on the highest boulder. He rested his chin on his hand, staring blankly into nothing. Footsteps caught his attention, two demigods coming out of the brush. Meg and Will. He watched passively as they sat on the boulders next to him.

Will opened his mouth to speak, but Meg cut him off by saying, “What was that about, dummy?” Will cast an irritated but impressed look at Meg. Truthfully, Apollo had gotten used to Meg’s way of speaking and had even grown fond of it. With a great sigh, he tried to explain, “You caught me off guard. I was thinking.” It came out as something barely audible, so Apollo cleared his throat and tried again. This time the two nodded, seeming to understand. 

Will produced a plate of food, eggs and bacon! But where had he kept it? Apollo decided not to think about it too hard, simply placing it as ‘Demigod Magic’ and accepting it gratefully. On another inspection, they had brought their own food as well.

“Thought we could have a picnic on the Poop P- Zeus’ Fist,” Meg said simply, seeing Apollo's confused expression. She quickly amended her words and graciously chose not to say ‘Poop Pile’ after Will gave her an exasperated expression.

“Won’t Nico come looking for you?” Apollo asked, giving Will a confused expression. His son simply laughed and waved his hand.

“We thought it’d be best to keep you some company. Besides, I already told him, so he shouldn’t come unless it’s something urgent.” Will picked up a strip of bacon, holding it up and grinning. “Cheers!”

Meg and Apollo grinned, raising their pieces of bacon as well.

“Cheers!” 

We laughed and talked for a while after that, and Apollo thought he would be okay. 

.

He was wrong. And he wasn't even surprised. Long after dark, Apollo was sitting on the grass. He was in the same spot as yesterday, and the water lapped at the brim of the damn. Cracks began to form, spreading over the areas he had patched up the night before. He began to shiver, though not from cold. His skin shifted and split, revealing golden light that pulsed underneath in tandem with his heart. Apollo could hear the dull thuds of his own heart, blood roaring in his ears.

He still couldn't get the images of Python out of his head, even though it had been over a month since he stood on the brink of Chaos, grappling with the beast. Pulsing amber eyes seemed to stare at him from all angles. He couldn't escape their vision. He crumbled. He clawed, sobbed, and screamed. Apollo raked his hands through his hair, tears streaming down his face. Apollo shook with the force of his sobs, his body quaking. The god was hunched over, trying to patch the holes in his crumbling dam.

He couldn't breathe, the weight on his chest was crushing him. He couldn't escape the pressure. Apollo could only let out quiet sobs, desperately trying to regain composure. He was dimly aware of the hearth flickering to life, orange flames illuminating the otherwise dark landscape.

The silver light of his sister had been shadowed by clouds, their presence dark and foreboding. Gentle hands lifted him, setting him on his feet and slowly guiding him to the hearth. He sat down heavily on the bench, his thin frame shaking. 

“My sweet nephew, please talk to me. I know you are hurting, but why? You have been restored to godhood. Is that not what you wanted?” Hestia’s gentle voice cut through the fog like a sword that parts flesh. It was quick and left him vulnerable, but in the end it had been straight to the point.

“Red… it should be red…” Apollo managed weakly, his words barely coming out as a soft croak. Hestia didn’t interrupt, waiting patiently for him to elaborate.

“It should be red, why isn’t it red?” he scratched at his arms until they bled, ichor staining his clothes and dripping onto the marble ground. Something - no, someone held his hands in place, delicate fingers wrapped around his wrist to prevent him from hurting himself.

Hestia pulled him into a tight embrace, whisking the two away from camp. They reappeared in a beautiful hillside in Greece. His old temple. It was already cracked and crumbling, but just the sight of it evoked buttery warmth in his gut. Memories of sacrifices and festivals filled his mind. The sound of laughter seemed to echo through the valley, and the phantom scent of fresh fruits and roast meat filled his nose.

He closed his eyes, letting the memories wash him away to a time where their hearts had been fuller and they hadn’t been so indifferent. He opened his eyes, the afternoon sunlight casting rays of warmth onto him. 

“Don’t close yourself off, Nephew. Remind yourself that there are those who care for you,” the voice of his aunt was barely a whisper in the wind as she disappeared in a whirl of smoke.

He smiled softly to himself, tilting his head back and closing his eyes, content to be lost in memories of the past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so FIRST OF ALL!! I had SO much trouble this chapter for literally one reason: I kept switching POVs for no reason. One minute it would all be 'he/him/Apollo blablablaed' and the next it would be 'I blablablaed' and I was so confused because I wasn't making a conscious effort to switch??? anyway hope you enjoyed cause my feelings about this story overall are all over the place.


	3. Fuller Hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> he remembers when their hearts were fuller, filled with love and happiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter doesn't have much, plotwise. more or a... character study??? anyway mentions of dead flower boyfriend and flashbacks.

Apollo stared as the sun set in Greece. He sat on the steps of his temple, chin resting in his palm. The god’s eyes reflected golden rays of the evening sun, glowing a soft gold. He had switched from his younger form to that of a young male in his early twenties. Apollo wore a simple white chiton, golden jewelry resting on bare skin. Once polished marble was cracked, stone pillars that were once strong now crumbled. His mind wandered from memory to memory, festivals filled with laughter and joy. Wine flowed like water and love was in the air. One of his hands crept to his heart, resting over the spot gently. His expression remained impassive, but inside his heart was a storm.

He remembered when he first met Hyacinthus. Sparta was holding Thargelia* and Apollo had been watching from the shadows. The young prince had caught his attention, a fire igniting within his very being, setting every part of him ablaze with passion and longing. He couldn’t stay away, and so the god had approached the prince in the dead of night. Hyacinthus had been sitting by the nearby lake when Apollo appeared in a swirl of golden light. The prince hadn’t been shocked, nor did he bow. Instead, he had merely patted the spot next to him. An invitation to sit with him. Apollo had accepted without hesitation, taking his place beside the prince. He stayed a good distance away, not wanting to crowd the other.

And when Hyacinthus spoke, the world would erupt in flames. His heart would burst with affection. The days passed quickly when he stayed with Hyacinthus. The two became the best of friends. They did everything together, whether it be playing games or driving the sun chariot. Apollo could remember their nights of passion clear as day. Hyacinthus would hold him gently, hands resting on the god’s hips as he guided him up and down. Apollo would spread his legs only for him. He was infatuated. 

One day, Hyacinthus guided him to the balcony of the bedroom, holding both of Apollo’s hands in his larger ones. His eyes shined bright with affection, a blush coloring his tanned skin.

“I want to court you,” Hyacinthus, stepping back and releasing the god's hands. Apollo was in shock, his world reeling. He had sworn to never marry, not since Daphne. But Hyacinthus… oh his beautiful Hyacinthus. The prince’s expression didn’t change. He understood the god well enough. The prince grabbed an apple from a platter, tossing it gently at Apollo*. The god caught it easily before his eyes widened. The decision had been made. He let out a sob and threw the apple to the side, rushing forward and embracing Hyacinthus.

“I love you. I love you so, so much.” Apollo had whispered that night, burying his face in his lover’s neck. 

But their happiness could not last. Apollo’s hands curled into fists, but he could do nothing. These were memories. He could not change the past. The night passed too soon. Hyacinthus had led Apollo to a beautiful meadow the next day, a discus in his hand.

The god had laughed, “You want to play now? Shouldn’t you tell your mother and father about your decision?” Hyacinthus merely winked and tossed the discus. Apollo grinned and joined in, their laughter filling the air. An hour into their games, Apollo sensed a presence. An angry one. Before he could stop himself, the discus left his fingertips. A freak gust of wind threw it off balance, and before he could invoke any sort of divine interference, it struck Hyacinthus.

An anguished cry left his lips as his lover - husband - fell to the floor. Apollo knelt next to him, pulling the young prince’s head onto his lap. Blood flowed like water and tears left Apollo’s eyes like a waterfall. 

“Stop, please. You can’t leave me.” He sobbed, fingertips sparking with divine magic. Yet he could do nothing but watch as the light faded from Hyacinthus’ eyes. There was so much blood, this couldn’t be happening. It had only been yesterday when the two had been wrapped tightly in each others’ embrace.

“I love you…” Hyacinthus said quietly. Then he was no more. Apollo let out a scream of agony as a part of him withered. He doubled over, caressing his lover’s cold face with shaking hands. This couldn’t be. It couldn’t! But the blood on his hands was all too real. 

He slowly lifted his face, expression turning to stone as he caught sight of Zephyr. 

“Hear my oath, God of the Wind! So long as I grieve over my Hyacinthus, you will not find solace. You will not find comfort in the arms of any man or woman, nor will you be welcomed with open arms. Now begone!” He bellowed, unleashing a blast of pure godly light. He managed to glimpse the other god’s terrified expression before he was gone.

Apollo mourned. He refused to live in a world without Hyacinthus. Hades would not have someone as bright as him. His love would stay in the sun, so Apollo could always see him. Even if the sight was a painful reminder. His lover’s body slowly crumbled into a fine ash, leaving nothing but delicate flowers. 

A hyacinth, reborn from the mortal body of Hyacinthus.

.

Apollo touched his face, surprised to find that tear stains covered his cheeks. The sun now shined upon him, making him narrow his eyes. It was time for him to go back. It would be around evening in camp by now. The god took a deep breath to collect himself. He would treasure these memories and hope that by doing so, the ice in his heart would finally melt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Thargelia. Thargelia is the festival held to honor the birth of Artemis and Apollo. In the modern calendar, it would be around March 24th and March 25th. It's actually an Athenian thing but since it's about the gods why not have other cities celebrate as well? I'm just clarifying so please don't think that I'm actually right. I'm just making stuff up, but if Spartans fo celebrate Thargelia then whaddaya know amirite? 
> 
> *That is literally how ancient Greeks would ask to marry, though usually, one was a dude and the other a woman but shdhssshshdh Apollo and Hyacinthus. It works like this. Our suitor would throw an apple at the maiden he desired to marry, and if she caught it? Well looks like y'all are getting married congrats. :) If you want a fun story about an apple concerning Aphrodite, Hera, Athena, and Eris please leave it in the comments! Or search it up if you want xD


	4. Let Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> apollo is wiser than he looks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SKSKSKSK IM SO SORRY FOR NOT UPDATING I HAVE NO EXCUSE- I'VE JUST BEEN REALLY MISERABLE THESE PAST FEW WEEKS ),:
> 
> pls enjoy and sorry for the wait

Apollo appeared in a flash of golden light, standing on the porch of the Big House. His sudden appearance hardly seemed to startle Dionysus and Chiron, though the few satyrs who had been playing pinochle ran off. He waved tentatively, taking his seat in one of the white porch chairs. He picked up the deck of cards one of the satyrs had abandoned. 

“So, did anything interesting happen while I was gone?” Apollo asked casually, placing a card down and raising an eyebrow. 

Dionysus merely sighed, “The little Hephaestus brat - what was his name? Hansel? Bah whatever. Harlin had another one of those Labyrinth apple races. The usual.”

Chiron coughed awkwardly, “Harley,” he corrected before continuing, “Paolo lost his foot. Holly broke her arm, and Connor impaled his thigh. They all lived, so that’s a positive. Where have you been, Apollo? Will and Meg were quite worried.”

Apollo sighed in relief, glad that none of his children - or Meg - had been hurt. “Hm, I just visited some old friends. Hung out a bit, y’know?” He tried to play it off casual, but the look Chiron was giving him didn’t reassure him. The god cleared his throat, “Dionysus, any changes with your… punishment?” As unlikely as the chances were, it never hurt to ask.

His brother gave him an unimpressed look, exhaling heavily through his nose. “Ah, you know the old man. Nothing new, unfortunately.” Apollo could sympathize, patting Dionysus on the back. “You’ll get there,” Apollo reassured, unphased when Dionysus responded with a snort.

Chiron cleared his throat, seemingly more weary than before, “There was a new camper… ah, she didn’t make it. Will is inconsolable and Nico doesn’t know how to help. Can you talk to him?” Whatever had been left of Apollo’s cheery mood died and he stared at the table blankly. It took him a few seconds to process it, nodding at Chiron and setting his set of cards down.

“Alright, I will. Thanks for letting me know, Chiron.” Apollo closed his eyes and concentrated on tracking down his son. Will was sitting on Zeus’ Fist, alone. The god teleported nearby, refraining from appearing right next to his son and possibly startling him. As he walked, he made sure to make noise to let Will know he was there. 

Seeing as his son gave no reaction to his presence, he changed his appearance to someone of their early twenties. Apollo clambered up the boulders and sat down, resting one hand on Will’s shoulder. 

“Want to talk about it?” He waited patiently for Will’s reply. 

“She was just a little girl,” Will started, and Apollo squeezed his son’s shoulder to encourage him, “but she was chased by a hellhound. She made it past camp borders but… but she succumbed to her wounds. It was my fault, all my fault.” Will fell silent and soon his shoulders began to shake. Apollo felt awkward, not knowing what to do. His own father had set a poor example for him, but he vowed to never be like him. Apollo pulled Will close and rubbed his back.

“She was just a little girl. Not even ten. She was so scared, she kept saying ‘I don’t want to die, please someone help’ over and over.” Apollo tightened his grip. He took a deep breath and pulled back, tilting Will’s face up and wiping his tears away with a thumb.

“As a doctor, you should know that we cannot save everyone,” his voice was gentle but stern, and Apollo continued, “the same goes for me, you, and even Asceplius. We’re not made to hold the guilt of all our failures. Maybe there was something you could have done better, that can’t be denied, but you did your best in the moment.”

Apollo didn’t talk for a few moments, pursing his lips and swallowing dryly. “In the moment, we can’t discern mistakes, and once we think back, our mistakes seem to be highlighted for you to see. Yeah, you might’ve messed up, but if you don’t mess up a few times, how’re you going to learn? You can’t grieve forever. Whether it’s over a wrongdoing of yours, a death, or a hurt. If all we did was grieve, we would go insane. We can remember, learn, but we can’t hold on.”

Will sniffled, wiping his eyes furiously, “Yeah, you’re right.” Apollo’s heart crumbled a little bit more and he cupped Will’s cheek.

“Did I ever tell you about Hyacinthus?” He didn’t wait for Will’s answer, continuing to talk, “he was my everything. My entire life seemed to revolve around him, and yet when the time came, I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t revive him, so I changed him. It was selfish of me, and even now, I’ve only created a painful reminder for myself. Don’t let grief consume you, Will. Once it does, it’ll never let go. Take your time to recover, but don’t let it become you. I can’t bear to watch anything happen to you” 

Apollo’s voice cracked, filled with raw emotion. Will seemed surprised, before tackling Apollo in a hug. The two just stayed like that for a moment, sitting atop the largest boulder in Zeus’ Fist. Apollo pulled back after a few minutes, ruffling Will’s hair. “You should go talk to Nico. He’s probably worried.”

Will smiled - albeit a little bit weary - and hopped off, running through the brush and back toward camp. Apollo stared blankly for a moment, startling for a moment when someone tapped his shoulder. It was Meg. Apollo patted the spot next to him, mustering his will and giving her a bright smile.

Surprisingly, she was already in tears. Apollo’s fatherly instincts immediately took over, and he wrapped his arms around her. 

“I’m glad you helped him and what you said… it helped me.” Meg didn’t have to elaborate for Apollo to understand. Nero. He was instantly furious at the thought of it, but kept calm for the sake of Meg. He hummed a soft lullaby, the one Zeus and Leto used to sing.   
Meg punched his shoulder after a few minutes, which Apollo took as a sign to let go, which he did. She looked terrible, snot and tears covering her face.

Apollo couldn’t help himself. “You look lovely,” he said, trying to hold in his laughter. 

Meg punched him again, this time harder, “Shut up, dummy.” She mumbled, wiping at her face with the back of her hands. Apollo set his hand on her shoulder gently, smiling warmly at her.

“How about I take you on a trip?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also, that little speech Apollo gave Will? Applies to you lovelies. Dont push yourself too hard.

**Author's Note:**

> okay so short chapter. i know, but I'm actually in a huge rush to get this out before I'm out of time so enjoy! also warning 'cause I'm not going to go easy on Apollo in the following chapters.


End file.
